


All Your Pretty Feelings

by avoidingavoidance



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), F/F, Vaginal Fingering, boy am i gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 19:12:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6389659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avoidingavoidance/pseuds/avoidingavoidance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hitoka loves Kiyoko’s hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Your Pretty Feelings

**Author's Note:**

> welp this is my first foray into hq fic and i'm ////////// help

Hitoka loves Kiyoko’s hands.

She tells her so sometimes, when their fingers are laced between them where no one will see, when Kiyoko’s slowly rubbing her thumb along Hitoka’s, a gentle, tender gesture of her affection. She tells her so when they’re alone in the club room and there’s no one there to watch as she trails the pads of her thumbs along Kiyoko’s bony knuckles, down the delicate length of her slender fingers, across the faint creases of her palm. 

She tells her that she loves her hands when they’re dirty from cleaning up after practice, or when they’re stained with ink from her pens smudged under her thin, neat left-handed penmanship, or when they’re freshly scrubbed clean and flushed from a hot shower.

Not like she has to tell her that, though. Kiyoko already knows.

It’s obvious, after all, when Hitoka’s dark eyes follow her hands as she taps out a quick text message, or when they widen slightly at the way Kiyoko’s fingers spread across the soft surface of a ball. 

Kiyoko almost feels self-conscious sometimes, especially when the callouses she’s been building up over the last few years are dry and distinct after a hard practice, or when blocking a misplaced serve leaves a dark, angry flush across the inside of her wrist, promising to bruise. She almost feels like she should hide them away until they’re smooth and fresh again, until the bruise fades and the callouses are less conspicuous, but she doesn’t.

Hitoka loves her hands then, too. Even more so, it seems, because the purpose borne in those marks are something Kiyoko’s never been able to explain to anyone, but with Hitoka, she doesn’t have to. Hitoka just... understands.

Kiyoko loves Hitoka. 

She loves her when she’s biting her nails during a tense match, when she stays late to help Hinata and Kageyama overachieve themselves to death, when she steals space between practice sets to flick rapidly through some of her neat, colorful flash cards for class. Kiyoko loves her when she’s practically vibrating with happiness because their boys are playing well, and when she’s exhausted from studying too hard but still giving her all to the team, and especially when they’re waiting together for the bus at night and Hitoka just can’t stand up straight anymore, and instead leans her head against Kiyoko’s shoulder, tentative and skittish at first before finally settling in closer, more comfortably.

She loves that Hitoka loves her, too. Not just her hands, nor her pretty face, but all of her. The parts of her that are too shy to function, the parts of her that get tense and exhausted when she’s around too many people for too long, the parts of her that need quiet sometimes to be okay. 

Hitoka understands that as well. She understands anxiety, and Kiyoko doesn’t even need to say anything sometimes for Hitoka to know what she needs. If she needs space, Hitoka gives it without pause, staying just far enough away to be comfortable while they study or read in easy quiet. If Kiyoko needs a distinct lack of space, Hitoka gives it just as eagerly, shuffling up right beside her and linking their fingers. It’d almost seem like confidence if not for the way Hitoka’s face flushes bright tomato red as she sucks shyly on her lips, glancing up at Kiyoko through her thick, pale eyelashes just to make sure it’s okay.

Kiyoko loves Hitoka, and she says it as often as she can. Her words don’t always work with her as well as they could, but it’s okay, because the hands Hitoka loves so much always pick up the slack.

She says it in the way she draws her fingers through soft blonde locks, soothing through light tangles before pulling her bangs back and pinning them out of her face while she’s studying. She says it in the way she rests her hand gratefully over Hitoka’s wrist when she brings them tea, squeezing gently before letting the tips of her fingers drag along the sensitive inside of her wrist. She says it in the way she draws the tip of her thumb over Hitoka’s flushed lower lip, the slide made smooth by the humidity of her quick breath, before she follows the caress with her own lips.

Hitoka isn’t exactly gifted with her words either, but it’s okay, because hearing her shakily breathe her love into the crook of Kiyoko’s neck over and over is so much nicer than Hitoka gives herself credit for. She can never say it just once, and her voice always shakes more the more times she says it, and her tongue stumbles over the words sometimes, and Kiyoko loves her more every time the words stutter past her lips, even when years filled with them come to pass.

\--

“K-Kiyoko...” Hitoka’s breath shivers between bitten lips, bright pink from her teeth and from Kiyoko kissing the sting away over and over. Kiyoko hums in response, drawing her lips down the soft line of Hitoka’s jaw, earning a quiet, hitched gasp. Her dark hair slips over her shoulder, brushing over Hitoka’s parted lips, but Hitoka doesn’t mind, instead tucking Kiyoko’s hair back behind her ear, then tangling her fingers deeper in soft black strands to pull her closer. 

Hitoka leans her head back as Kiyoko drags languid kisses down the line of her throat, the hand resting on the nape of Kiyoko’s neck gentle and encouraging, pretty blonde hair splayed out on the floor beneath her, and Kiyoko’s head kind of spins at how breathtakingly _gorgeous_ Hitoka is like this. She parts her lips against Hitoka’s pulse with a rushed exhale, heat coiling deep between her hips in steady waves that match the even rhythm with which one of Hitoka’s thighs presses up between hers. 

Kiyoko moves back into her with a hitched sigh, just barely dragging her teeth over the pink flush she’d left with her lips, and Hitoka breathes a soft, sweet moan at the sensation, her fingers tensing in Kiyoko’s hair. She rolls her own hips up, too, pressing herself against Kiyoko’s hand where it’s rubbing her gently through her panties, encouraging her shy touches.

With her face buried in Hitoka’s neck, it’s easier to rock her fingers more confidently against the soaked fabric still covering her, easier to drag them across the slick wetting her in a way that has Hitoka shuddering and arching under her. Hitoka breathes a soft praise over her ear, some mute encouragement that sends heat racing through Kiyoko’s body, and she follows that with a slow, perfect drag of her bare thigh between Kiyoko’s legs, pressing and rubbing and slipping almost lewdly against her panties. 

Breath hitching, Kiyoko nuzzles closer to Hitoka and gasps quietly, her thighs tightening slightly around Hitoka’s. Hitoka’s fingers are still threading through Kiyoko’s hair, combing it out of their faces, her hands admiring and affectionate. She’s so reassuring, so patient with Kiyoko, so willing to help her accept the things she wants so badly, and Kiyoko loves her so much she wants to burst.

In a rush of lovestruck bravery, Kiyoko swallows quietly, then shifts her hand up under Hitoka’s rucked-up skirt. Hitoka stills under her, waiting to see what she’s doing, and when Kiyoko’s slender fingers dip tentatively under the hem of Hitoka’s cute panties, slipping through the warm, soft curls she finds there, Hitoka breathes an appreciative hum, her thighs parting further.

Hitoka’s so _wet,_ soaked through and dripping under Kiyoko’s fingers, Kiyoko almost doesn’t know what to do with herself. She nips lightly at the curve of Hitoka’s shoulder, a tiny plea for assistance, and as she slides her hand further, just feeling for right now, Hitoka sighs sweetly and presses her lips to the hollow of Kiyoko’s collarbone, then pulls her hands between them and to the buttons of her own shirt.

Kiyoko pulls back enough to watch Hitoka unbutton her shirt, her teeth catching her lip, her fingers stilling momentarily in her distraction. Her hair slips out from behind her ear again, but she can’t pay attention to that, not when she can see so clearly how Hitoka’s chest moves with her quick breaths, how the soft swell of her breasts looks hidden beneath the cute pink lace of her bra.

“Kiyoko...” Hitoka murmurs, a pretty smile curving her flushed lips, her dark eyes almost sparkling in the low light of her apartment. She tugs the ends of her shirt out of her skirt, enough to bare her chest, her soft stomach, then rests her fingers over the little silver clasp between her breasts keeping her bra closed. She pauses there, though, and it takes Kiyoko a moment to realize that she’s waiting for her, waiting to make sure Kiyoko’s okay with this. 

Nodding quickly, Kiyoko swallows again and flicks her eyes up to Hitoka’s, just long enough to catch the flustered adoration she finds there before she shyly averts them again. Hitoka’s smile widens, and one hand comes to rest on Kiyoko’s face, her thumb gliding affectionately across Kiyoko’s warm cheekbone.

Nimble fingers loosen the clasp, and Hitoka’s bra falls open, showing the soft pink marks it had left behind on her skin. Hitoka squirms a little to pull it open all the way, stuffing it down under the loose edges of her shirt so it won’t get in the way, then bites her lip as she looks back up at Kiyoko, who may or may not be exploding.

This isn’t the first time she’s seen Hitoka’s breasts, but that hardly matters. She doubts she’ll ever get used to the dizzying rush of heat that always crashes over her whenever Hitoka bares herself like this, whenever Hitoka gives her that patient, wanting smile, every part of her blossoming gorgeously and encouragingly under Kiyoko’s touch, _for_ Kiyoko’s touch.

Shivering out a low sigh, Kiyoko closes her eyes and bends to rest her forehead on Hitoka’s chest, nuzzling her face against soft, warm skin and earning a squeaky little laugh. Hitoka wriggles under her, burying her fingers in dark hair again just for something to hold onto. 

As Kiyoko’s pressing hot, slow kisses down Hitoka’s breastbone, then across the swell of one of her breasts, she rubs down against Hitoka’s thigh again, too aroused to be embarrassed by the mess she’s leaving on her skin. Hitoka hums and rocks her knee up in return, arching into Kiyoko’s mouth with a trembling sigh, and when Kiyoko’s lips close around her nipple, Hitoka squirms under her with the prettiest little moan, her head falling back to the floor as her thighs spread further.

The shift finally reminds Kiyoko of the unbelievable wetness under her fingers, of the drenched fabric sticking to her knuckles now, and Kiyoko gives a tiny, wavering whimper at the feeling. She sucks gently on Hitoka’s nipple, laving her tongue over it and teasing it to a flushed peak, her hips still riding along Hitoka’s thigh, almost desperate for the sensation already. 

“K-Kiyoko,” Hitoka sighs again, before she tugs lightly on Kiyoko’s hair to get her attention. Kiyoko pulls away from her nipple with a slow lick, then blinks up at her, watching her suck shyly on her lips. She knows she must be blushing something fierce, but she meets Hitoka’s eyes anyway, then lets her pull her up to her lips.

Hitoka kisses her so sweetly it burns, all lazy intensity and tender affection as she tangles their tongues, her fingers rubbing soothingly behind Kiyoko’s ears. Kiyoko sighs, then leans into her, fitting their lips together flawlessly. She shifts her weight to her free forearm, pressing them together more closely, wanting so badly to feel Hitoka’s bare skin against hers. As if reading her thoughts, Hitoka brings her hands between them again and sets to unbuttoning Kiyoko’s shirt, her fingers barely trembling as she works.

Once she tugs the ends of Kiyoko’s open shirt out of her skirt, Hitoka pulls her close again, arching up against her narrow chest with a soft moan. Her hands skim over the smooth fabric of Kiyoko’s bra, her thumbs feeling the curve of her breasts through the thin material before she slides her hands up over her back and deftly works open the clasp. Kiyoko hums gratefully, her breath hitching, and as she curls her tongue between Hitoka’s lips, Hitoka slips her hands under the loose edge of her bra and fits her palms over Kiyoko’s breasts with a gentle squeeze. 

Kiyoko shudders and arches against Hitoka, breaking their kiss to gasp quietly, her eyes squeezed shut again. Hitoka leans up after her and kisses along the line of her slender throat, her hands still lightly cupping and kneading her breasts, and just as her thumbs tease over the hard peaks of Kiyoko’s nipples, Hitoka rocks her hips up against Kiyoko’s hand again with a tiny, pleading moan.

Swallowing heavily, Kiyoko starts moving her fingers again, slipping them slowly through the wet heat still soaking them both. She bites her lip, tilting her head aside for Hitoka’s lips, then tries to focus on what she’s doing, dipping the tips of her fingers between soft folds. Hitoka gasps against her neck, the muffled sound so encouraging, so Kiyoko presses further. As hot and wet as she’d thought Hitoka was, she’s even hotter and wetter here, and Kiyoko can’t help but moan as she slips the tip of her middle finger inside Hitoka’s tight heat.

Hitoka falls back against the floor with a shaky moan then, her fingers tightening on Kiyoko’s skin as she arches slightly, and when Kiyoko gently works her finger deeper, Hitoka’s face blooms into this gorgeous, flushed expression of pleasure, her lips parting around the sweetest moan of Kiyoko’s name.

“H-Hitoka...” Kiyoko murmurs in return, her voice trembling, unable to look away from the way Hitoka looks right now. She works her finger in gentle thrusts, paying careful attention to the way Hitoka gasps and squirms under her, to the incredible faces she makes. There’s no way it’s enough, though, so Kiyoko shifts her wrist further and presses her thumb to the tight, hard mound of Hitoka’s clit, using her slick to rub slow, easy circles around the tiny nub.

Hitoka’s back snaps up off the floor at that, her head thrown back and her hands gripping Kiyoko’s waist tightly, a noisy, shaky moan pouring from her lips. She’s _amazing,_ so pretty when she’s tensing and writhing like this, unsteadily rocking her hips into Kiyoko’s hand, so Kiyoko touches her more, pressing harder and thrusting faster, and the sound Hitoka makes at that is almost _dizzying._

Kiyoko rubs herself harder against Hitoka’s thigh, panting faster now as she pulls them both higher. She swipes her thumb quickly over Hitoka’s clit, then rubs just above it, short, firm strokes downward that have Hitoka groaning and shivering, her brow furrowing in pleasure. She goes back to circling over it directly just as she buries her finger deep and crooks it up, pressing against her soaked inner walls intently, and Hitoka bucks her hips with a short cry at that, squeezing tightly around Kiyoko’s finger.

Just when Kiyoko thinks she might be able to come like this, just rubbing against Hitoka’s thigh and listening to her breathless moans, Hitoka reaches under her skirt and pushes her hand into Kiyoko’s panties, moving her thigh just enough to make room. Kiyoko’s breath catches on a surprised whimper as her hips rock into Hitoka’s hand, but Hitoka barely needs any time to adjust before she’s rolling Kiyoko’s clit gently between two fingers, then quickly rubbing the tips over it in tight circles, picking up an insistent, _incredible_ rhythm like she has Kiyoko perfectly memorized.

Kiyoko’s mouth falls open as she shakes apart in Hitoka’s hand, doing her best to keep it together long enough to make Hitoka come first. She moves her own hand faster, curving her finger up harder and rubbing her clit more firmly, and Hitoka tightens around her like she’s getting close, her breath panting out fast, her thighs trembling.

“K-Kiyoko, Kiyoko,” she gasps, her other hand coming to fist in Kiyoko’s hair again, tugging _just_ enough to have Kiyoko moaning for her. “Kiyoko, you’re s-so cute—”

It’s almost unfair how everything Hitoka does gets under Kiyoko’s skin like it’s nothing at all. She’s Kiyoko’s every weakness, no matter what she does, and somehow Kiyoko thinks Hitoka’s entirely aware of that, and that she _loves_ it. 

Kiyoko buries her face in Hitoka’s neck as she comes, her hips bucking forward, thighs tightening around Hitoka’s, her nails digging into the carpet as she gasps for air and quakes. She can feel the mess she makes on Hitoka’s hand, on her thigh, but Hitoka just moans and arches into it, clearly in love with the feeling. Kiyoko’s on fire with it, every muscle tensing, and her hand is moving again before she’s even done, somehow summoning the will to bring Hitoka with her even as she soars higher.

It’s the press of Kiyoko’s teeth against her pulse that does it, or maybe the way she skims another finger against the tight heat wrapped around her, or the firm stroke of her thumb over her clit from bottom to top. Either way, Hitoka arches hard under her again with a choked cry, her thighs closing around Kiyoko’s wrist, and the way she feels squeezing around Kiyoko’s finger is intoxicating. She’s so _wet,_ all tight heat as she grinds up against Kiyoko’s hand, so Kiyoko moans her name and carries her through it, letting herself succumb to the rush of her own orgasm in time with Hitoka.

She’s still panting when she finally lifts her hips away from Hitoka’s hand, every brush almost too much for her now. As she eases her hand out of Hitoka’s panties, Hitoka arches and wiggles, a little whine shivering past her lips. She’s quick to wrap her arms around Kiyoko’s waist, keeping her close as she nudges her face again Kiyoko’s throat and gasps, “Kiyoko, Kiyoko, I-I love you, I—”

Humming warmly, Kiyoko rubs her cheek against Hitoka’s mussed hair, closing her eyes contently at the soft words muffled repeatedly against her neck. She lets Hitoka cling to her until she’s stopped shaking, at least, pressing sweet, gentle kisses into her hair where she can reach.

“Hitoka,” she murmurs after a while, after Hitoka’s started relaxing a little too much, her voice growing quiet with exhaustion now. “Hitoka, let’s clean up, okay?”

Hitoka huffs softly, but nods, letting Kiyoko pull away. She sucks shyly on her lips when Kiyoko meets her eyes with a warm smile, running her clean hand affectionately down Hitoka’s brightly-flushed cheek. Hitoka catches Kiyoko’s wrist and turns to press a flustered kiss into her palm, then mumbles, “Can you stay?”

Blinking quickly, Kiyoko tilts her head and asks, “Stay the night?” Hitoka nods, squeezing her eyes shut. Kiyoko’s smile widens as she leans down and kisses Hitoka’s cheek, then sighs, “Okay.” Hitoka blinks up at her after a moment, her eyes wide with surprise before they soften gratefully. As if Kiyoko could possibly say anything but yes to that question.

Later, when Hitoka’s sprawled comfortably across Kiyoko’s chest, her breath warm and slow with sleep, Kiyoko threads their fingers together and gathers her closer, whispering sweet love into her soft hair until the steady rhythm of Hitoka’s breath lulls her to sleep too.

**Author's Note:**

> i have a [tumblr](http://avoidingavoidance.tumblr.com)


End file.
